


Clear Eyes

by GalaxySeer



Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-02-28 10:35:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13269660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxySeer/pseuds/GalaxySeer
Summary: Sky's ReflectionSun's VisionShe shall be the blind LightHe shall be the guiding DarkGo forth Light SeerGo forth Dark GuideAnd bring the peace into the world





	1. Rebirth

 She slumped over the toilet, last night's dinner left a horrid taste in her throat. Exhausted from being there for a good length of time, she groaned and patted around for the wet rag. Barely peeking over the hills, was the sun, bringing with it the promise of a new day. A soft rasp to the door before it opened, gave her time to look up and see her mom. With a pitiful look, she whimpered.

"Oh sweetheart," her mom soothed and grabbed the rag. She rewetted it and dabbed it on her daughter's forehead. She became mildly concerned when she felt the heat coming from her daughter's forehead. Even with the cool water from the rag, her daughter was still burning up. "Come on, let's get you to bed." She helped her daughter to her feet and into her bed. She tucked the covers up around her neck and rushed to find the thermometer. She scowered the hall closet and the bathroom cupboard. Finally, she found the outdated thermometer in the laundry basket by the front door.

She smoothed her daughter's bangs, "Hey, I need you to look at me." She slipped the thermometer under her tongue and waited while petting the hair. The beep alerted her, she checked and choked. 102*. Much too high, "Shena, you need to stay awake. I am going to call the ER and see what I should do, okay?" Shena didn't respond, in fact, she wasn't moving. At all.

Her mom frowned and tapped Shena's shoulder, nothing. She wheezed and shook her daughter, but gained no acknowledgment. "Shena wake up," she fretted and ran to get her phone from her room. 

Around 9:00 AM, in that small two-bedroom home, young Shenandoah Brooke passed before the paramedics arrived. Her mother lay before her late daughter and grieved, her sobs making the medics' hearts clench. No matter what they did, Shena was gone.

* * *

 Shena backed into a stone wall, too preoccupied to care. Her hands stumbled around to find her fallen flashlight she had dropped while running. In the pitch dark, she was swallowed by, she desperately needed the false light to see and function. Her hand felt something bumpy and she quickly grabbed it. Flipping the switch, she was welcomed to the sight of thousands of little eyes looking at her. 

They looked like toads were given spider legs and Italian mustaches for eyebrows. Their eyes glowed a violent red like that of albinos. Wide, fang-filled, mouths were pulled into smug smiles. They were chanting something in a guttural language. 

Shena stammered in an attempt to say something, alas, she could come to no words to describe the situation. Cornered like a cat-and-mouse game, with no place to run. She whimpered and held tight to the flashlight, the feeling of something in her hands was like a life-line. She could hear as the flashlight creaked under her grip. How was she going to get out of this? How  _did_ she get here, surrounded by the creatures of Creep? 

The farthest she could remember was hanging over her toilet feeling like hell. She had woken up early that morning with her stomach screaming profanities at her. Then -nothing.

Where was she?

Around her was a cavern, the creatures hung all around in the dark dirt. The air was thin and cold in her throat, it made her breathing faster. She might have been a teen, but right then, she wanted nothing more than to have her Mom with her.

One of the creatures of Creep waddled forward, chanting something with its muddled language. Taunting her, telling her lies, and promises. She whined and cowered away from the creature. Then they were upon her. Tearing and shredding anything that their teeth and claws to catch. She screamed bloody murder and faught as much as she could. 

With a thump, the flashlight hit the ground. The light flickered until it died.

 

 


	2. Transformation

She gasped as air flooded her lungs, feeling like she hadn't taken a deep breath in years. Shooting up, she knocked the thin sheet from her to the floor, her naked skin held goosebumps from a wave of toe-biting cold air as it danced across. She panted, her lungs grabbing for the refreshing new air. It felt wonderful in her dry throat and cold nose. Her eyes were dilated, finding it hard to focus on anything in the dark.

Her head swiveled around, she found medical tools and sterile surroundings. She looked down and found herself unclothed, the thin white sheet as the last piece of privacy. Shivering and pulling it to cover her exposed breasts in an attempt to conserve her modesty. She slowly calmed her breathing, bringing them into a steadier rhythm. Bleached walls in all four of the direction, no break in the white. 

Her bare feet hesitantly touched the cold floor. A shiver went up her spine at the new feeling on her feet. She held the sheet to her and went to stand, however, failed, and collapsed, bringing a medical tray table with her. It sent tools skating all around the floor. She whined and rubbed her arms. Her eyes caught a tool near her that had become upturned. It was a clipboard with a form of some kind. 

Her eyebrows furrowed, she reached over weakly and plucked it up. She skimmed over the contents, it was a medical record. And a.... coroner's report. She frowned and flipped to another page, it was the continuation of the report. A diagram of a blank human body, small notes, and drawings on the human. A mark to the head with a note showed that the victim had shown signs of brain swelling in all sections of the lobes. She narrowed her eyes and read further. The victim also showed signs of poisoning from an unknown source.  

Unbeknownst to her, the dark was slowly becoming easier to see in. Like someone had turned on a light, she was able to see every detail. That wasn't right, she discouraged. Bringing her hand closer to her face, she was able to see every little line in her fingertips. Her own little personal ID. She hummed and flipped her hand over, able to see the tiny scar she'd gotten from snagging her hand on a barb-wired fence. 

It was like she had night-vision or something. 

Focusing back on the report, she huffed when she read the name of the victim.

**Shenandoah Brookes**

That fresh air she had been so relieved to breathe, rushed right back out. It all came flooding back in the way of memories and voice clips. Like she had stepped into a smoke-filled room. Little details were blurred and the scenery smokey. She stood in the middle of a kids' park, trees were painted orange from the Autumn. The flowy figures of children and adults went about their days. She scoffed and stumbled over to the old creaky swing-set. A hand gently caressed the banged-up metal, the feeling so familiar. Little kids pumped their legs, trying to gain height to their swinging.

A mother in a red sweater chastised a young girl who was covered in mud, the little girl hung her head but hid the smile. The mother huffed and shook her head, "What am I going to do with you? You're like a little tornado, having chaos wherever you step." The mother pulled her mud-ridden daughter into a hug, covering herself with the sticky substance. "l love you, my little Clear Eyes."

She choked and stumbled back from her spot by the swings. Her heart began hurting. 

_Clear Eyes. Clear Eyes. Clear Eyes._

The smokey scene shifted into the hallway of a hospital. The mother, now a few years older, was slouched in a chair with her head in her hands, sobbing. Her hair was in disarray. Attendees gave quick glances but held their tongues to the sobbing mother. The mother sniffled when a doctor came out from a room in front of her. The medical professional spoke about something and nodded his head, a solemn look on his face. The mother choked up and pushed past the doctor and into the room. Her pre-teen daughter was hooked up to machines to keep her alive. No older than twelve and she already was going septic, and no one comes back from being septic.

She watched as the scene morphed into another. That same mother was sulking in a sterile room, her arms crossed as she gazed longingly at a covered body. The coroner sullenly pulled back the sheet to reveal a cold body.

She screamed when she saw that the body was  _her._ The shoulder length brown hair, the pale skin, the scar on her cheek from a fight from Freshmen year. It was her. She was her and her was she.

"I am Shenandoah Brooke," she choked out from her dry throat and chapped lips. That statement alone brought a great deal of weight off her shoulders. Like an opened locked door's key had been permanently welded to the lock. Shena dropped the clipboard. However, the cold nipped at her bare skin, reminding her that she was in need of clothing. She struggled to her shaky feet and searched for any locker or cabinet. Her hands banged around on a metal locker, she found the lock and popped it open. It opened to show some pairs of scrubs. Most likely emergency ones. 

Shena sighed with relief and grabbed the top pair, however, putting it on proved that they were in fact, too big. A couple of sizes too big. She breathed in a small amount of amusement. The next pair proved to be around the right size, a medium from what she could read on the tag. Now with something covering her bare bits, Shena was able to finally relax. 

She glanced at her reflection in a metal tray, she was somewhat tidy. Her skin was deathly white.

"Why am l here," she murmured as she approached the clear sliding doors. The hallway was dark and abandoned. A ghost town. She pushed the doors open and stepped into the tiled hallway. Shena quietly made her way past all the other offices and into the lobby. Empty and barren, no signs of any late night workers. She trudged her way over to the door and pushed against it. It wouldn't budge. She deduced that it must be locked. 

And as much as she would love to lay on one of those nice... fluffy... chairs. She did not want to be her when some poor lobbyist came in to see a grungy girl asleep on the chair. Shena banged on the glass door again. Having enough, she picked up a flower pot and, non too gently, threw it into the glass. It came shattering down like man-made rain. She cowered away from the falling glass, shielding herself with her arms. 

She lowered her arms and smiled at the outside world. It was dark out, the street lamps lit the dark world up. She carefully made her way over the fallen glass, cautious not to step on them with her bare feet. Her feet touched concrete and she crossed her arms for warmth. A quick look at a near street sign showed that she wasn't that far from her house. Oh how she wanted to curl into her warm bed. With renewed vigor, she jogged down the familiar streets. Nobody was out and about, but that might have been because of the late hour. 

She came to the bridge and paused. For some reason, she wanted to stop and look over. Some unknown force was compelling her to look over. Shena wandered over to the stone railing and peered down. Her eyes grew to the size of the moon. Because there in the bottom of the slue was a hulking creature pushing a strange wagon. She gasped and ducked back over the railing, hoping that she was imagining things. Oh god, she hoped she was imagining things.

Gambling one last peek, she watched as the same creature walked right into the  _wall of the bridge_! Oh that's not right, she scoffed. But, she shook her head. "I must be seeing things because of no sleep." She consoled herself in a way to calm herself. She held her hands up in a slow down sign. "Alright, now let's not jump the gun," she muttered, "There has to be a sane reason for this."

An owl hooted from the trees on the far side of the bridge. Shena took a deep breath and decided to begin the trek back home, the original plan. Yet, a small plan in the direction. She opted to short-cut through the forest, it was quicker. And probably safer than walking the streets. She walked through the trees shadows from the moonlight. It was a bit creepy but calming. Sort of.

The grass felt kind under her sore feet. The wind sang her a wild song. In a sudden stumble, she whined as the feeling of her back hurting horribly. Like someone had taken her spine and was stretching it out. She whimpered and sank to the ground, reaching around trying to rub the aching back. The pain became progressively worse, now moving up all her bones and nerves. Her nerves felt like someone had set them aflame and then rain gasoline on them. No longer could she hold back the growing scream.

It rang out through her aching throat, echoing through the trees. She screamed and wailed as her skin began to split and change color. Some of her bones began to shift and change. Her skull being one, began growing lumps that split through her scalp. She screamed until she could scream no more. Her height grew, larger than she'd ever been. How much pain she was in.

Then, it just stopped.

All the pain went away, leaving behind a shivering form laying on the ground. She was bloody and broken. 

Shena whimpered and tried to move, even a simple shift, sent her into a shivering mess. Her muscles felt like she'd run a triathlon. She persevered and pulled herself to a sit, no matter how much her body fought. But, something about the way she was moving felt very wrong. 

She blinked and raised a hand to look at it. Her arm was mossy green, scaly, and hard to the touch. She whined and tried to scratch the scales off, becoming hysterical. Shena looked at her arms and legs. She was a creature.

She began panting, her heart-rate going through the roof.

"Calm yourself, child," a soothing voice calmed. Shena yelped and swung to face the assailant. Her blood went cold when she saw another creature. This time it was wearing some kind of awesome cosplay armor. Two horns sprouted from its helm.

"Get away from me," Shena screeched, attempting to scoot backward. The creature tried to calm her with signals, but it only made it worse. 

"Peace, human. My name is Kanjigar." 


End file.
